And So The Guillotine Was Let Loose

It is overwhelming how sometimes certain things are better understood when left unsaid. That is, how the art of inferring can enlighten us with richer knowledge than that we would have ever attained through careless reading. What are sometimes considered as gaps in the text are rather hidden caves of infinite information that allow the reader to infer. Most of these inferences made throughout the reading of a novel unravel vital truths that would have otherwise not caused such an impact.

            Throughout Albert Camus’ novel, “The Stranger”, the continuous gaps in the text provide fructiferous questioning that not only force but also inspire the reader to infer on what both Camus and Meursault are attempting to deliver. It surprised me how undetailed the novel is; nonetheless, this grants an even deeper meaning to it. The reader can see how Meursault never describes himself, how he never really explains what and when things went wrong with Maman, and why he is the careless man he is.

            Despite Meursault’s lack of emotion and explanation, what distressed me the most was not textually reading whether his beheading occurred or not. It took me a moment to realize just how much richer was Camus’ way of concluding the novel.  The reader can infer upon the novel's end; he/she has the chance to compile 120 pages of textual reference with unlimited prior knowledge in the attempt to formulate an individually convincing verdict.

“As if that blind rage had washed me clean… for the first time… I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world… I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again.” (Page 123)

And so the novel ends. But wait, where is the part where Meursault gets his head cut off and crowds cry and cheer and Marie scowls in despair and Maman waits for him beside the God he never believed in?

            I believe Camus did this for a reason; just as Meursault was accused of being intelligent while in trial, I accuse Camus of being clever while in writing. So what if Meursault dies beheaded or of old age? So what if he died now, later, yesterday? Meursault reached the ultimate sentiment of indifference towards the world; that which we all want but feel afraid of. He understood that what mattered was his unique capability of living life without regret and without the childish illusion of hoping it would be another. He was a man; he understood that he was alone and that the only thing that mattered was what he had in the present: dawn, the beating of his heart, and his capability of feeling happy in the face of death. He was strong; he never even considered a hypocrite deathbed conversion. If we were indifferent to the world, just as it is indifferent to us, we would be able to genuinely and gingerly live the condemned life we have. The lack of information provided in the novel only encourages us to daydream of the infinite possibilities Meursault may have faced; however, what really ends up having any relevance and importance is his final inner accomplishment. It is a lesson, to each and every one of us. Anyone can die today or tomorrow, anyone can come along and decide for you, but what should worry us in life is the task of attaining an indifferent position against the possibility of death and rather use our time to focus on doing what we are passionate about, what we can do now, and what we will probably not have the opportunity to even considering doing tomorrow. 

The Stranger; Existentialism Between the Lines

Albert Camus’ novel, “The Stranger”, delivers existentialist ideals through Monsieur Meursault’s actions and lack of emotions. The fact that he is detached from his mother’s death and apparently unaffected by it is the ultimate example of Camus’ personification of existentialism; which, as it is commonly known, deals with the whole purpose of human existence and the philosophy that life has no meaning and therefore nothing in it really matters.

In the first four chapters of the novel the reader can begin to understand Meursault’s attitude towards life; “Then I felt like having a smoke. But I hesitated, because I didn’t know if I could do it with Maman right there. I thought about it; it didn’t matter.” (Page 8). Meursault is using the classic existentialist phrase, “It doesn’t matter.” So what if I have a smoke in front of my mother’s dead body? Camus infers that Meursault’s habit of smoking probably bothered his mother, but at the same time the man has no problem with opposing this even when she lies dead in front of him. As Meursault might have thought so at the time, mankind has free will and nothing that he does has any importance.

Although throughout the novel Meursault seems indifferent towards his mother’s death, the culmination of this hypothesis occurs in page 24 where he states, “It occurred to me that anyway one more Sunday was over, that Maman was buried now… and that, really, nothing had changed.” Nothing had changed? His mother had just died! Anyhow, it is not like Meursault even knows when this occurred, as shown in the first pages of the novel where he questions whether his mother’s death occurred yesterday or the day before that.  One might believe on existentialist philosophies but it is absurd to become indifferent of your mother’s death, especially because that is simply disrespectful. However, Meursault is just like that; objective, euphemistic, detached. Will the sorrow of losing his mother ever come to light?

Another thing that stood out for me was how the first four chapters of the book ended with an interesting contrast between characters. Mr. Salamano, Meursault’s neighbor, approaches Meursault because he is deeply concerned about his dog’s disappearance. Despaired and trembling, Salamano asks Meursault, “They’re not going to take him away from me are they…? Otherwise, what’s going to happen to me?” (Page 39). This stands out to me because it happened just two days after Meursault buried his mother, and while he seems totally untroubled by that, his neighbor is loosing his head over a dog. Regardless of the relationship this man had with his cocker, it is ridiculous that he falls into an anxious breakdown for a dog while Meursault enjoys the day after his mother's death. Nevertheless, Camus once again throws hints of his existentialist ideals through this; Meursault is enjoying the day, isn’t that the only thing that matters?

Although I am liking the novel, I find Meursault’s detachment slightly perturbing and worrying. I respect Camus’ existentialist believes but I think the human being is incapable of hiding these kind of overwhelming emotions forever. Will Meursault ever fall into them?

Dear Mr. Ferrebee

Dear Mr. Ferrebee,

After reading my 45 minute AP Question Response, and before reading the comments you printed on the back, I thought it was, overall, a good essay that met the standards and showed interesting quotes and analysis. However after reading your comments I felt you were right with some but perhaps not so clear with others. For example, a 5 Essay meets the assignment while providing “thin and commonplace information” but my essay included two quotes from the book that I could remember, place, and explain; I do not believe that to be thin information. Even though I agree with most of the characteristics you highlighted on the back, details like this make me disagree a little on the final grade for my essay. I am aware that my essay is not an 8 but I believe the usage of quotes may place mine on a higher grade as compared to others who, though I am not aware of this, might have not used quotes from the text and still gotten the same grade as I did.

Nevertheless, thank-you for including the comments on the back, it is a helpful manner of showing us that our essays are graded based on solid standards.

Sincerely,

Andrea Diaz 

Colors Within "The Great Gatsby"

“We both looked at the grass- there was a sharp line where my ragged lawn ended and the darker, well-kept expanse of his began. I suspected he meant [cutting] my grass." (page 82)

F. Scott Fitzgerald refers to colors in both a direct and an indirect way throughout his novel, "The Great Gatsby". But what is his intent? What do those recurring colors represent?

The excerpt above was taken from a scene describing Gatsby's behavior before Daisy's arrival to Nick's house for tea. Gatsby, a West Egg millionaire, slightly criticizes Nick's ragged lawn and straightforwardly tells Nick that he wants to cut it, trim it, make it more pleasant to look at. Nick immediately notices how his grass, compared to Gatsby´s, looks poor. I understand a "ragged lawn" as some sort of disorganized,  dirty, brown patch of weed. Its owner certainly does not have the money or the time to take care of it and make it delightful to look at. However, when Nick describes Gatsby's "darker, well-kept expanse" I imagine something totally different; rich green extensions of fertile lawns, those that people would rather look at than step on. Moreover, by how the scenery is described throughout the novel, I imagine Gatsby's lawn to be somehow above Nicks, as if it were a little mountain, as if Gatsby himself were "above" the narrator. What I believe Fitzgerald is attempting to deliver is just that; social classes. A perfectly kept, dark, rich green lawn with the white house gingerly built over it is the classic image of the American Dream; of those who made it. Meanwhile, a ragged lawn portrays the ghettos and suburban areas where people hardly have enough money to eat let alone embellish a lawn. Gatsby does not even ask Nick if he could trim his grass, he just says it. This shows how his dark, beautiful lawn is somehow better than Nick's and Gatsby is "considerate" enough to make it prettier, or richer, all because of what Daisy might think. Fitzgerald is delivering, through imagery and what colors may tell us, how Nick´s and Gatsby´s incomes differed and how one of them apparently accomplished the American Dream.